My Reckless Surrender - Page 13

The ultimate lie.

Even through his pounding excitement, his misgivings howled. Everything about her contradicted everything else. Unfortunately, he’d reached such a pitch of need, he hardly cared.

“Nothing.” He bared his teeth in a smile that conveyed his wolfish thoughts. “Come with me.”

“My lord…”

He overrode her protest, if protest was her intention, and dragged her toward the doorway, mercifully empty of crowds at last. “You started this. It’s time to pay the piper, my girl.”

To his surprise, she laughed. “Are you asking me to blow you a tune, Lord Ashcroft?”

The hussy’s reawakening summoned a burst of genuine laughter. “We’ll definitely make beautiful music, madam.”

Chapter Four

Diana was aware of nothing else apart from the powerful man hauling her unceremoniously through the disorderly crowd. Feverish desire made her head spin. How had she become this mindless wanton?

Everything was Ashcroft. His salty flavor was on her lips. His hand curled tight around hers. His long legs ate up the distance between them and freedom with such speed, she stumbled to keep up.

It wasn’t just her own surrender that bewildered her. The swiftness of his capitulation left her reeling. Although she had a chary feeling he hadn’t capitulated at all, and he remained in complete control of her and circumstances. She’d baited the tiger, and the tiger had pounced.

Now she must wait to see if he intended to devour her whole or leave only a few scratches to show for the encounter.

He’d kissed her as if he meant to devour her.

She licked her lips, savoring the rich taste that lingered. She’d never been kissed like that in her life. She didn’t know anyone could kiss like that.

Still, Lord Ashcroft tugged her through the milling hordes with the hard certainty of a clipper plowing through the sea in a high wind. Still she bobbed in his wake like a pinnace.

Diana didn’t know where he took her on this mad dive. The unfettered, heedless part of her hardly cared as long as he soon swept her into his arms and kissed her again.

More than kissed her…

On this close night, the air outside the theater was no fresher than the miasma inside. Still without speaking, Ashcroft swerved into a dark side street away from the line of coaches. She staggered as the acrid stink of decaying rubbish assaulted her.

He shoved her against the cold, dank brick of the alley walls. The tiny fraction of her brain that still worked insisted she should resent his proprietary attitude. Instead, she experienced a deep feminine thrill at his strength and steely determination to have her. Her heart crashed against her ribs in uncontrollable excitement.

Dear God, she was hopeless. She hardly knew this man, yet already she fell under his spell. And she didn’t know how to stop herself.

With sudden purpose, she raised her head to object to his cavalier handling. He read the tilt of her chin as invitation and pressed his mouth to hers.

Heat blasted down to her

toes. His kiss at the ball had been rapacious. Now she realized he’d reined himself in amidst the seething crowd. His utter ruthlessness astonished her. He ravished her lips, using tongue and teeth to subjugate resistance.

Not that, to her shame, she mustered any resistance.

She gasped, sinking into the kiss like a drowning woman sank into a dark ocean. Every bone in her body dissolved, leaving only glorious sensation.

Nobody had touched her like this for years. She’d forgotten the power of a man’s hands on her in desire. All thought flew from her head, replaced by a thick, drugging syrup of pleasure.

Ashcroft tasted of night and sin and devilry. The dish was so delicious, she’d never get her fill.

To her mortification, she whimpered in disappointment when he finally drew away. A roué like him would know that with one touch, she yielded. Her chest heaved as she struggled to drag air into starved lungs.

She didn’t want air. She wanted more dazzling kisses.

Dazed, Diana stared up into his face, a pale blur in the darkness. His breath was a soft, uneven susurration. Although she knew better than to imagine he could be as overcome as she, when she placed one hand on his chest, he was shaking.

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
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